


Livestream

by Aninvisiblekat



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: One Shot, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:01:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27216850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aninvisiblekat/pseuds/Aninvisiblekat
Summary: [Kenma Kozume x Reader] [One Shot] It was kind of nice to have your own personal livestream, and it's not like Kenma could break a tradition.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Reader, Kozume Kenma/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 52





	Livestream

**Spoilers for post-timeskip Kenma.**

Sometimes you just like to watch Kenma play video games. Maybe it sounds loser-y, but you love getting the chance to just hear his voice as he quietly talks at the game or explains game mechanics that you neglect to admit you already know. You rarely do so in person. Distance and time both keep the two of you from seeing each other often, time spent together wouldn’t be wasted in such a way (although to you it isn’t a waste, you like being able to stare at Kenma as _he_ stares intently at a screen). Even when you talk over the internet, most of your conversations are less one sided. Sometimes the two of you play games together or do homework. But it’s nice to be able to take advantage of days like today, where you can watch him in what you consider his natural environment. 

You burrow down into your blanket as Kenma’s icon pops up in a call. Although it’s already late, you should still be doing homework. Readings, tests, and essays are starting to pile up, but you know you won’t focus on any of it anyway. You have an excuse. Or at least you like to say you do. It’s not every day that a famous youtuber and professional esports player calls you (no, in actuality it’s _slightly_ less often). You and Kuroo laugh about it, because _of course_ Kenma was able to make such a successful career out of playing video games. He’s even starting his own company now, if you can recall correctly. Deep down you’ll admit that despite all of your pride at his accomplishments you’re a _little_ jealous of Kenma’s widespread success, especially for somebody still in college. But none of that matters when you press the “join call” button, hearing the little chime you’ve gotten used to over the years, the one that kicks off the frequent custom. 

“I think if you think about it, I was your first fan.” Kenma can hear the smile in your voice, but he still freezes with his finger hovering above the mouse, about to open a game client. For the sake of his heart you really shouldn’t say things like that. He takes a deep breath, thinking about what to say. 

“I don’t think you should consider yourself a _fan_ of me. That’s weird.” He finally moves to open the game, thankful his voice was steady. He takes on what can be interpreted as a sarcastic tone, although his voice is rather monotone, “and that’s a pretty bold claim for somebody who didn’t even attend my first professional tournament.” 

“Hey! I didn’t claim to be your _best_ fan, just your first. It’s not like everyone can fly to Europe on such short notice.” You stare at the screen as he queues into a game. Kenma scrolls through the colorful character options before deciding on one. You recognize the character as one of his favorites. For a long time you were the only person who knew that, now it seems everyone does. 

After his game loads (quickly of course, someone of his caliber would have no less than the best hardware) he begins moving in a well practiced manner. First to the shop, then towards the actual map. He doesn’t need to explain to you what he’s doing. You’re almost certain you could name each of the items he bought and their purpose, but he’s still quietly talking, and you do nothing to interrupt him. You faintly hear the clicking sounds of the mouse, picturing in your head his precise movements and focused expression. 

He wins his first game. As he starts another, you decide to speak up. “I saw your interview.” With an international tournament coming up, it is unsurprising that more people want interviews with a well recognized player like Kenma. 

“You shouldn’t watch those.” It’s not like you don’t already know everything he says in them. 

“Well, I did.” He knows you still will watch them, despite what he says. Somehow the thought of that shoots a bit of happiness through his body. 

“And?” He can’t help the fact that a _tiny_ bubble of fear rises in his chest. He cares about your opinion. A lot. He stares intently at the character opposite of him, trying to dodge their attacks. 

“She seemed to ask more personal questions.” 

It was true. Many interviews focused mainly on the game or tournaments Kenma had been involved in. 

_‘How long were you playing before you started a professional career?’_

_‘I’ve played video games my whole life, but I really got into this one in early high school.’_

_‘How do you feel about the change in game mechanics over the years?’_

_‘I think most of the changes have been subtle, but it’s important to change strategy and play style to keep up with them. I like to think I’ve been able to adapt.’_

_‘How do you feel going into this tournament? What do you think of your chances?’_

_‘I think we’ll do well. We’ve been working hard and improving from last year. There are talented teams here, but we wouldn’t be here if we weren’t also qualified.’_

He can hear the questions, and his predictable answers. As a child and a teen, talking to people was hard for Kenma. Talking about video games is easier. Being a youtuber is a little easier (the ability to edit was very reassuring). The latest interviewer had asked more general questions, including ones about him. It was uncomfortable; he was probably too stiff. On top of that, he hasn’t watched the interview. He doesn’t know whether or not the interviewer cut out _that part_. He hunches over as his character dies, not without doing a large chunk of damage to his opponent.

“You better have meant Kuroo and I.” 

_“Is there anyone else important to you that you’d like to include in your channel someday?”_

_“Yes, a few of my childhood friends. They’ve been asking to be in a video.”_

Kenma makes a quick ‘hm’ sound to confirm he’s heard you. He lets out a quiet sigh. You didn’t bring _it_ up. She must have cut _it_ out of the footage. 

_“So, Kenma,” the interviewer leans forwards conspiratorially, “ever since you started revealing more about your personal life in your videos, people have been asking whether or not you’re single.” He’s seen those posts, those comments. It’s an outlandish experience; why do they care whether or not he’s in a relationship? “So, is there someone special in your life?”_

_Kenma doesn’t push his hair away from his face as he looks at the ground. It’s still comforting, despite how much he’s grown. This is an opportunity right? He could say ‘I hope so’, and it would be such a cute gesture that you’d say yes. But then fans will start to wonder about it, what if you don’t want the attention. Or worse, what if you reject him and he’s left with a constant reminder? But he can’t say no either, what if it gives you the wrong idea? He should probably say something now, he’s been thinking for far too long._

_“I think I’d prefer to skip that question, if you don’t mind.”_

_“Of course,” his shoulders loosen, although he didn’t know they were tense to begin with. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable at all.” She looks genuinely apologetic, but with a quick nod of his head she returns to her previous poise._

_He asks her after the interview if they can remove the footage, and she nods quickly, apologizing once more for causing him discomfort. He reassures her it’s alright, yet the moment remains heavy in his mind for the rest of the day, and he wonders how he could have responded better._

“I do think we deserve a _little_ credit. Me especially.” You’re joking, but he’ll humor you anyways. “I basically helped you practice making gaming videos!” 

He makes a noise to acknowledge your statement. The bad thing about voice chatting (besides not getting to be physically near you) is that it’s more necessary to respond, even when there’s nothing to say. He’ll let this run its course, no doubt you’re going somewhere with this. 

“And considering those make you so much money, I do think you should reimburse me.” 

He feels his heart beating in his ears. There’s another opportunity here, isn’t there? An opportunity to smoothly ask you out. Or make a romantic gesture. But Kenma can’t see himself taking those routes, so as he travels down one of the winding trails on his game map he instead asks, “how would you suggest I do that?” 

Here’s your chance. You could go for it now. You feign a ‘hmmm’, making a face like you’re deep in thought, despite the fact that he can’t see it. It would be so easy, wouldn’t it? _Go out with me_. Four words. But you can’t do that. If you do you risk losing this, and you’re not sure you can live in a world without Kenma. 

“Obviously by getting me the plushie of that cute bear character.” You’re talking about merchandise from the game he’s playing. “The five foot tall one, of course. And you should definitely ask Kuroo too, I think he’s written up a comprehensive list.” Kenma’s heart slows again as a pit forms in his stomach. He tries to force it away. Why should he feel so disappointed when he said nothing either? 

You check the time as conversation lulls once more. It’s already two, though you could swear it midnight mere minutes ago. You return to watching Kenma, realizing that you are pretty tired. 

The end of every call is the same. Kenma’s voice dwindles to silence, as even he becomes too tired to narrate to you, instead playing on autopilot. Maybe he’d just stop playing if you weren’t there. Get off the computer, stare at the wall, but he doesn’t want to make you leave. 

It’s an opportunity, you know, to say something. But you also know that’s the delirious part of you that desperately wants to be able to confess your feelings without potentially fucking everything up. The part that wants to have an excuse to fall back on, ‘oops, sorry, I was just so tired….’ But you never do. No, instead you stay, for any amount of time, maybe 30 minutes, maybe two hours, and you’re both quiet. 

“I’m gonna go.” You end the conversation when you notice you’re starting to doze off. “I’m pretty tired, I’ll talk to you later.” You disguise the disappointment you have in yourself and your inability to speak up. After all, it shouldn’t be new to you. You’ve done this hundreds of times before. 

There’s always a silent moment, and you wonder if it’s another opportunity, this time to make up for what you haven’t already done in the past four years. 

He always hesitates. “Okay, good night [Name].” His voice is more subdued, almost a bit gravelly in the earliest hours of the morning. 

And as you both hear the sound effect of your hanging up, he remains on the other end for a second, wondering if he should have said something. But he hangs up on his end a moment later. Maybe next time. 

* * *

1/1  
I actually tried to not make this so specific, but that was... unsuccessful.


End file.
